I felt the coldest of colds
Had sun scorch my neck
Wind batter me senseless
Cool breezes relax me.

I entered the Arctic Circle
Broke in to the tropics
Europe’s furthest north
Australia’s most eastern.

I saw mountains of green and white
Golden yellow sands
Jungles and rainforests
Concrete towers and skyscrapers.

I climbed a thousand steps
Walked a hundred miles
Saw rainbow islands
Beaches stretching forever.

I crossed many a bridge
Trudged up hills
Suffered for a photo chance
Longed to be teleported back.

I faced many of my fears
Pushed my boundaries
Did the unthinkable
Waded out of my comfort zone.

I fell through open skies
Rode a bike into empty space
Rounded up goats on a horse
Dragged through fields by huskies.

I donned silly fancy dress
Failed to lasso the skull
Yanked a goat backwards
Got launched from a mechanical bull.

I felt the thrill of a surf
The terror of a wipeout
Marvelled at coral
Touched a fish as big as my telly.

I lifted my favourite cup
Saw an Aussie Rules upset
Partied like a local
Sang my heart out in the street.

I tasted an ant’s bum
Had a kangaroo burger
Spat pips on a bar floor
Ate octopus with chopsticks.

I bathed with naked men
Jacuzzied in a freezing sunset
Got half naked in a bar
Smiled at my snow angel.

I hurt ribs falling on a sand dune
Blistered my feet by walking
Bruised my arms with my backpack
And experienced a hundred bites.

I grew a full beard
Had ice cubes down my neck
Trainers caked in mud
Sweat pouring down my back.

I played like a kid
Had a bread crumb fight
Rolled down sandy mounds
Swung until I was dizzy.

I fell hopelessly in love
Had the best week of my life
Experienced pleasure so intense
The moment when time almost stood still.

I danced without a care
Threw my morals aside
Had the perfect first kiss
Did wrong things without regret.

I was dropped off in a police car
Ticked off like a teenager
Showed passion in public
Sensibility out of the window.

I shed tears of laughter and sorrow
Saw hope disappear and return
Goodbyes and Hellos
Loneliness and togetherness.

I missed home comforts
Accepted the lack of privacy
Longed for a comfy bed
Wished for my own space.

I met annoying Germans
Courteous Norwegians
Helpful Japanese
Very laid back Aussies.

I heard repeatedly: “No Worries”
“Goon”
“We are Liiiiiiiiiverpool!”.
“Have a nice day!”

I caught up with old friends
Made many new ones
Drank too many beers
Got hopelessly lost.

I punched the air alone
Woke to disappointing results
Listened to gloating Mancs
Saw the misery of relegation.

I was dazzled by the Milky Way
Wished upon a shooting star
Mesmerised by the crescent moon
Slept under a canopy of wonder.

I was where the bomb dropped
Saw endless graves
The beauty of the cherry blossom
And the hope for peace.

I was chased by a croc
Held a snake round my neck
Saw prehistoric survivors
And jumpers run wild.

I saw rows of dead fish
The taming of the squirrel
Robots and concrete cows
Sea eagles swooping for food.

I heard crickets chirp
Kookaburras laugh
Crocodiles growl
Mosquitoes buzz my ears.

I was shocked at large spiders
Scared by snakes at my feet
Troubled by bed bugs
Cautious about jellyfish.

I saw stunning sunsets
The sun rise above the horizon
Shadows stretching to infinity
Took photos of perfect silhouettes.

I witnessed nature’s light show
Saw light dance and play
Sat frozen in time
Captured sights I’d always dreamt of.

I had moments of pure inspiration
Mountains magically appear
Pockets of simple tranquillity
Found my happy place again and again.

All of this in three months
The best I’ve ever had
So many great memories
A ton of wonderful photos.

I finish my sabbatical
My eyes more wide open
I’ve changed, and for the good
Best decision of my life.

…but how do I top all that?

I’m sure there’s a number of you reading this feeling a little smug that after my big jolly I’m about to go back to reality. Hope he suffers big time, after all his showing off with the photos and descriptions of great places. Why should he have all the fun? Welcome back to our life. Well, I can’t blame you if you did think like that, and I’m sure I’ll satisfy your hunger to see me suffer when I return.

I’d like to finish off my blogging for these three months firstly with some stats I’ve worked out, and secondly – via the next post – a poem about it all. As you may know, I do a bit of writing and the odd poem, so I wanted to record all of the things I’ve seen, done, experienced and felt in my time away and at home since I’ve been off. The poem hasn’t got great structure or form, but it’s not meant to be perfect. Some of the lines can only be understood by me, some only by a few others, but for the most I hope you can get a good snapshot of it all and a feel of my journey. I didn’t realise I’d actually done so much until I counted the 36 verses! Hope you enjoy it, but it’s just as much for me as it is for anyone else.

I’ll end by saying a few thank-you’s:

Mum, Dad and family – Thanks for supporting me and not freaking out when I told you about my plans.
Olive – Not sure what I would have done with Tom and Geri without you!
Steve – Cheers for the advice and for helping to make my NY trip so good.
Eric, Mary, Nick and Kelly – Thank you for making it possible for me to take the three months off work, and for the support given to me.
And finally Alli – For giving me so many wonderful memories in this period, and for simply being you.

Don’t worry – I fully intend to think of other exciting stuff to do and blog about soon! Just give me a while to sink back to reality first….

Sabbatical stats

Number of flights: 16
Number of countries visited/landed in: 8
Number of capital cities visited/landed: 6
Number of miles travelled by bus: 2100
Number of miles travelled by air: Approx 25,000
Number of McDonald’s/Hungry Jack’s eaten: 0
Number of hostels stayed in: 18
Number of photos taken: Approx 6500
Number of photos put on Facebook/website: Approx 1200
Number of blog entries: 33
Number of lifetime ambitions achieved: 1.5 (“To parachute out of the sky” and “To travel the world” (well, this trip took me a bit closer to this one, but plenty more to do!))

My ridiculously long journey home started what seems a lifetime ago,
flying from Melbourne to Sydney. A few hours’ wait there and then an
11 hour flight to China, 7.5 hours’ wait and then another 11 hours to
Heathrow. The sooner I invent that teleport the better…

Since I left, it appears that swine flu is the latest craze sweeping
the world. Great. China are particularly cautious, and so I had to
fill out a form about my health. You had to answer truthfully, and
whether you had had a cough recently. Well, I’m still getting rid of
the last bits of a cold a caught off someone in a hostel weeks ago, so I ticked the cough box. Next thing I know, I’m being hauled off to a
side room and being shown a thermometer and where to put it. Well, at least I’m not a cat, I suppose.

There is a blue sign in front of me that I attempt to read to pass the
time whilst my temperature is being read, bit it’s all in Chinese.
Except something about SARS. Mmmm nice. Eventually, it’s time for the armpit reading…I’m ok, I can go. Obviously no pig flu for me this
time.

The airport is huge – it took ten minutes just to park the plane – so
I find a secluded spot to pass the time. Should I sleep? Didn’t sleep
much on the plane. Eat? Not hungry yet. Besides, I have no money! No local currency anyway, and no ATM in sight. Maybe I’ll change some up if need be or put on card. Not that I have a clue of prices. I’ll just blog and do some writing for the moment.

I have a snack a bit later which could have cost five or fifty pounds;
guess I’ll find out later. Discover some free wireless and delight in
Liverpool’s victory that puts them top for the minute. The dream
lives on, despite the odds still against us.

Somehow, the hours fly by and I’m on the plane, trying not to cough
and cause widspread panic. Just a mere 11 hours in daylight, probably with the same films as earlier.

Time to switch off – bringing the end to Travel Andy’s international
blog…for the moment!

So the choice is a nice, relaxing day at the Great Barrier Reef, finding Nemo, immersing myself in a great underwater spectacle, or hurling myself off a tower with an elastic band strapped to my leg. Decisions, decisions for my last day in Cairns. Except it isn’t a decision. I’ve been aware for some time that the normal, reserved, responsible, cautious part of Andy has been beaten away into a corner by the daring, sod-the-possible-consequences, throw-caution-to-the-wind Travel Andy. The latter has taken over and has handed over the credit card to make the booking for tomorrow.

I wake in the morning after a lie-in, ready for an 11am pick up. I’m not that nervous – after all, I’ve done a sky dive; I can do anything, me. Before I know it, I’m in a car being driven down the road to the bungy station. We arrive and I walk up the slope to see the setting in the forest. It’s really pleasant – waterfall, chilling out area, LCD screens, but the tower looms large over the complex at 50 metres high above a pond. I sign up for one jump, with the intention of a second if all goes well and I like it. Another set of disclaimer forms, and I get given my ticket. Better go to the toilet first. Not that I’m nervous, of course. I wander over to the big sign and start to climb the tower’s many steps…

I’m not liking this. My confidence is oozing out of my legs with every step upwards. The wooden stairs are the kind with gaps in between each step, and the whole tower wobbles as you ascend. I don’t like heights, I remember. Never have. After a long climb, I reach the top. Much to my dismay, there’s only one jumper in front of me, so my turn is imminent. Ohhhhh crap.

My heart is racing. I feel very nervous. I look over the edge by the side and try to imagine myself falling over it. Can I jump off? I actually have to do something here, not like sky diving. I can see the coast far in the distance, as clouds gather overhead. I get told to put my harness on, but struggle with all the straps. Eventually, I sort it, and all I have to do is wait to be called. Thriller is blasting over the stereo. Like I could be more scared…

“OK Andy, just stand up and shuffle towards the edge.” the female crew member says to me, as if I’m in a supermarket queue on Christmas Eve. I do it, reluctantly.

“Now, just need your toes a little nearer the edge…”
Give me a break.! This is nuts!! I look down. I can’t do this. Every muscle in my body is telling me I’m insane – my feet are tied, I’m a million miles up and I have to dive off and who knows what happens next. I can’t do this.
“You just need to let go of the rail.”
I shakily give up my crutch that is the bar beside me.
“Errr, the other hand, too.”
Dammit. I forgot about that one. Nope, it won’t let go! I’m properly bricking it now! This is silly, I can’t dive off, I just can’t I…
“Right Andy, I‘m gonna say 5-4-3-2-1 and then you go ok? Now wave to the camera…”
I wave cheerfully. Who am I kidding?
“5…”
Sh*t”
“4…”
Crap.
“3…”
Oh f**k.
“2…”
Arrgghh.
“1…”
<blank>

I launch myself into midair.

Woooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

The rest is all a bit of a blur until I reach the water, where I’m unexpectedly dunked into it head first, right up to my waist. Bouncing up, I’m totally shocked. What the hell happened? What on Earth do I feel now? This is…just…wow. I continue bouncing, unable to really comprehend what is happening. A few moments and several bounces later, the guy below grabs me and pulls me into his small dinghy, ready to untie me. I get told to wave to the camera, this time far above me, and I do so, automatically. He rows the short distance to the side and helps me out. I climb to my feet and feel my mop of wet hair. Wow. I’ve done it. I’ve actually done a bungy jump!!!

I stumble around for a few minutes, expecting a big crowd or applause or something, but of course a lot of people here have either done it or have seen it all before. No-one’s that interested in this soaking wet English guy in his Liverpool t-shirt doing a basic bungy jump. I go to the toilet again and dry off a little. Do I want to go again? Yeah, why the hell not…

It’s lunch time for the crew, so there’s a bit of time to wait. There’s a bar here, so I take the recommendation of going for a beer. I even grab some Doritos as I am a bit peckish. I down the beer quite quickly, and soon am told that it’s time to resume. This time, as I climb the steps I’m more confident. I’ve done it now; no longer a bungy virgin. One slight problem, however, is that I’m a bit susceptible to drink on an empty stomach. I’m about to do a bungy a bit half cut!

I reach the top with a defiant attitude. You didn’t beat me before, and this time I’m stepping it up a level. The second of three categories contains various styles, and I’ve chosen the run-as-fast-as-you-can-off-the-edge one. I have a reason for doing this, although it is a bit sad to admit: Die Hard. You know the bit where John McClane (Bruce Willis) ties himself with a hose or something and jumps off the edge just as the building’s roof explodes? Well, that’s how I’m imagining this jump. Living the movies once again! For this jump, however, it’s a little different. I have to climb a ladder on to a higher platform, and then up a ramp. There’s nothing in front of me, nothing to the sides.. Only air. This is quite serious. How can I do this? Well, despite being afraid of heights all my life, there is just a part of me that’s an adrenalin junkie. I can switch off the part of my brain that holds all the fears and reservations and just do something stupid but thrilling. I’m not entirely sure of its limitations, but I’m pushing it this holiday, for sure!

The female crew member (let’s call her Miss Bungy) raises her eyebrow when she hears I’m all set for the running jump. Considering my hesitation and obvious nervousness on my first one, she seems quite dubious. Helping me into a different harness so my legs are free and beckoning me up the ladder, she takes me through what to do. “Just run as fast as you can Andy, with the rope out to your side.”
I’m ready. I’m psyched. A bit nervous, but not thinking about it. Maybe it’s the beer. I only feel it slightly, but perhaps it’s helping. Not that I’d recommend a drunken bungy, but let’s see what happens!

Miss Bungy goes through the countdown. Bring it on…
“Yipee ki-yay!” I say as I sprint towards the edge like a stockbroker in a hurry.

“Wahhhhhhoooooooooooo!Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

Arms and legs everywhere but this time the feeling is fantastic! This is sooooo cool! I just sprinted off the edge of a platform and now I’m just bouncing around free in the air! No water, just the scrolling sights of the platform, trees, people below, pond, platform again, and finally the dinghy man. Incredible!!! That’s probably me done for now, isn’t it?

I’d planned for two, but I have this voice inside me to go again. I remember meeting an eighteen year old a few days earlier that said he was going for the BMX jump. The English guy in front of me who also did the running jump is going for it. Should I? I go and check his jump out.

Wow, that looked pretty intense! That got everyone looking. Holding on to the BMX and cycling off the ramp looked crazy! I gotta do it. Truth is, I don’t really want to do it, but I want to say to everyone that I’ve done three bungys and one of them was on a BMX bike. Beat that, matey. Doing it to show off? To brag? To look cool? Yes, I have to admit that. But so what? I’m a bloke, after all!! I sign up…

This time there’s a wait up the top. A few more people have come and I have to watch them all take their turn. People question the presence of the BMX, and seem impressed when I casually say that I’m doing it. A little boy spectating watches on with admiration. I feel like a pro! I watch a couple on their 25^th anniversary to their first jumps in tandem together. Another couple fail, as the woman bottles as she reaches the top. Despite tons of encouragement and lots of time, another woman turns back from the edge, almost in tears. It does remind you of what it takes to do it. Whilst all this is going on, I look at the view as the rain falls lightly above. A part rainbow covers one of the islands in the distance. Amongst all the rock music being played to set the mood, suddenly Africa by Toto comes on, and I think of Alli. No time for soft thoughts up here!

“I didn‘t think you‘d run so fast as you did on your last jump” Miss Bungy says to me as she gives me the harness. Ha – obviously I surprised her with my Die Hard impression. Eventually, it’s the time of the BMX Kid to take centre stage. Which is where we came in…
 

The ramp slopes downwards. The bike, obviously, has wheels. My left foot is Sellotaped to the pedal. My right foot is out to my side for balance. The tower is swaying heavily as the other swing ride takes place beneath it. I have to pedal to the edge and into oblivion. Everything is wobbling. I could slip or roll downwards any minute now. It’s not easy, as the helper checks and ties various cables. I have to somehow hang on to the bike all the way down, whilst being flung in all sorts of unknown directions. This is absolutely crazy insane!!! What am I thinking? I’m not a stunt man! I’ve only been doing this for five minutes, but Mr Big Balls had to take it to the third level, didn’t he? Brain – what possessed you to go for this??!! I’m very, very scared.

More last-minute adjustments. Keep going, as I’m not sure I want to do this any more. What if I go off at an angle? Every part of me that’s ridden a bike says to stop. I can barely do a wheelie! I’ve never even owned a BMX! Despite being my third jump, I really am petrified.

“OK Andy!”
Don’t say it…
“5-4-3-2…”
My heart pumps fast. My throat is dry.,
“1…”
I open my eyes wide.
“GO!!!”

A primitive, do-or-die emotion floods through me and suddenly I’m pedalling! I’m not sure if it’s out loud or just in my mind but I’m screaming as I approach the edge. Oh sh………………………………………….

I’m spinning, I’m turning, I’m flying through the air on a goddamit BMX!!!! Scenery rushes past my eyes but I have no idea of what’s up or down. I’m gripping the handlebars tightly and pressing on the peddles extremely hard. I reach the full of the extent of the rope and bounce back down again. “Yeah baby!” I shout, in amongst a few other screams. After a second bounce, I even have the confidence to play with the steering. Look at me!!! I’ve just done possibly the craziest thing in my life!!!!

Back on terra firma, I’m shaking. That was even worse than the first one! My legs shook all the way down, and now my hands are wobbling like the tower. But I’ve done it. Three jumps, including a spectacular bike dive. The kid, walking down, eyes wide looking at me is keen to know how it felt. Respect from the crew behind the counter. I’m the man! And I can’t stop smiling…

 
Photos are now on Facebook and my website, but for real hilarity you need to check out the DVD. My first jump I look so nervous, my second I sprint determinedly, and the third I look like a crazed madman on two wheels!

Many people have done many more crazy things, but I’ll settle for that…for now!

Our vessel was a smallish sailboat with a motor, and was called C.V. Whitehaven. It had a crew of 3 serving 24 of of us, doing the sailing 
and providing the meals. I must admit it looked really small when I first saw it, but it had just enough room for everyone. The group was young but multi- cultural: Swedes, Norwegians, Italians, Swiss, French, Germans, Irish and English. So to the trip…

Leaving Airlee at 1pm, we set off in the direction of a group of  islands in the distance. Weather is calm and very sunny, which considering recent poor weather is very good luck for us. It isn’t too long before we reach our first stop – a small area in which we are to do some snorkelling. I’ve snorkelled briefly before in a small enclosed area in Orlando, but nothing like this, in a coral area.

Sexily dressed in my stinger suit (for protection against the deadly jellyfish that give you four minutes to live once stung) and yellow flippers, I swim out from the boat. Glancing down through my goggles, I see…nothing. Not exactly overwhelmed at the moment…wait! Wow! Look at that – coral! Suddenly I see all sorts of life down there, just a few feet from my body. There are browns, yellows, a bit of blue and in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Some look like sticks poking up, some like round rocks, others wave as the current sways them from side to side. It may not be the Great Barrier Reef, but for my first coral experience it’s pretty breath-taking. Then I notice the fish swimming around, darting on and out of the coral. All fairly small, all 
untouchable as I glide past. It’s another world down here.

After exploring the area and being delighted at its inhabitants, I go back to the boat where coffee, biscuits and cake are waiting for us. A while later, after a period of chilling and watching the sun slowly drop, we arrive at our overnight point. We anchor in a small bay and the crew put out dinner. I chat to a few people around me, but soon become a little tired of talking about travelling all the time. There’s only so many times I can repeat my three month travel itinary before I get bored! I’m actually more than happy right now just staring at the wonderful scenery out there, thinking of someone special and contemplating the future.

As darkness takes a firm grip, the beers start to flow. Not just on our boat either – there’s a party boat not too far away from us in full flow. Here, we’re a little more sedated, but eventually a few games break out. But the real entertainment occurs when they turn out the lights – and the heavens appear.

Spectacular. Not even Norway matched this. Above me right now you can 
see a trillion stars. The Milky Way is clear to see, drifting slowly across. Half the universe seems to be within touching distance. Being in the southern hemisphere, you see a different set of stars than back home. As a bit of an astronomer myself, it all looks alien until I see Orion. And then I see something that reminds me I’m down under: an upside down Plough! Cool – the Great Bear turned on its head.

Eventually it’s time to bed, and I retire to the top bunk of a crowded cabin of five women. I barely have enough room to turn and it’s very stuffy. Great. What’s worse, is that I keep feeling mosquitoes on me. Damn things. I resort to covering myself up with a sheet…but still I feel them. That must mean that they’re not mossies…so that means….bed bugs!!!!!! I’m up out of bed and brushing myself down before you can say a swear word. Ugggh. Others are also up and in distress. We put the light on and I examine my pillow. Small critters are roaming around. Ugghhh * 10000! No decision to be thought about: I’m sleeping on deck tonight!!!

6am: dawn is underway and I’m awake. Not the best of night’s sleep, but at least I was not troubled by bugs! We have breakfast at 7 and soon we’re underway again. Our next destination is Whitehaven Beach - the fourth most photographed spot in Oz and one of the best beaches in the world. We land on a shingle beach behind it and trek through some trees to an outlook up a hill. Woah – now that really is a beach! White sand sweeps in front of us, meeting crystal-clear waters. With the green islands in the distance and yachts floating lazily in the midground, it’s certainly a photo opportunity!

I have a swim in my stinger suit, sunbathe, take a walk and a few photos. Maybe not idyllic, but pretty close to, I reckon. The sand is 99% pure and is so white it reflects the sun, so never gets hot. It’s beautiful, swimming in clear water with small fish. All it needs is palm trees and a bar and it would be perfect.

We have lunch, and have a few bits left over, which gives the skipper an idea. “Can anyone whistle?”
There’s an island to our port side which he reckons a sea eagle lives who will come if called for food. Yeah, right. Someone whistles loudly in the right direction. Nothing. Suddenly a big white bird swoops above us! Cool. We throw some food out and it dives down to collect it from the water. We’re feeding a sea eagle!

Next stop is more snorkelling, but this time with bigger fish, apparently. We jump in and swim a bit nearer shore. I feel a slight sting on my wrist where the stinger suit doesn’t cover. Errrr…does that mean I have four minutes left to live? Crap. Nah, sure I’ll be fine. I hope. I continue on but panic again when I think I see a jellyfish on my peripheral vision. Calm down, Andy! Least there’s no sharks.

In a minute, I’m suddenly surrounded by thousands of brightly coloured 
fish. Most are as big as my hand, and there are so many of them that you can reach out and almost grab one. One of the crew is on the dinghy beside us, throwing food into the water to encourage them. He wants to attract one in particular…and here it comes! I put my face in the water to see and encounter this huge thin fish just inches away. It’s as big as my plasma tv!!! We can reach out and touch him too – smooth and just a little slimy. They all start off as female before the biggest turns into a male, apparently. Who’s the daddy?

More relaxing sailing, this time with the motor off and sails blowing as the wind picks up. We get given the choice of another snorkel or swim, or a beach sunset. The latter wins hard down, so we take the dinghy to a small beach and face west. While waiting for the sun to dip, I stroll along the beach to look through all debris left by the sea. It’s mostly shells, like a mass graveyard for the smallest of creatures. I pick a tiny but perfectly-formed pretty shell for Alli and head back to my towel.

The colours are beautiful. Maybe not as good as Norway, but very golden. I watch my shadow stretch towards infinity on the sand before fading. Soon, the dingjy picks us up again, but not before we see an old friend strangely missing recently: the moon. A wonderful waxing crescent hovering above the tall masts of the boats docked nearby. We stop for the night and have spag bol. I have two helpings. I chat to one of the English girls who turns out to be from Milton Keynes. At last – someone else over thirty! We have a good talk before noticing the moon crashing down towards the horizon. Despite the crescent, you can clearly see the outline of the rest of the moon. Stunning. Minutes later, it’s gone.

Night is upon us now, and this time we’re the noisy boat for a while as drinking games begin. The wind picks up, tossing the boat around. Soon, it’s time to go to bed, and I decide to go up on deck again. Wrapped in my fleece and blanket, I’m warm, despite the wind. Stars are scattered above me, light years away; like I am from home, I think to myself, as I fall asleep.

The morning starts again with breakfast at 7am. I’m tired and a little stiff, as it got a bit cold and uncomfortable a few hours into the night. Things improve, however, as we see a turtle pop up a few times by the side of the boat. I lay back and relax for the rest of the journey back to the marina, content in watching the sea and islands scroll past. I yearn for a long shower, a comfy bed and some space, but right now I’d happily trade them all in for the tranquility of this moment.

The afternoon back in Airlee is spent washing clothes, meeting a bunch of lads torching the hair of coconuts with my deodorant (don’t ask) and chilling by the lagoon. The lagoon is safe to swim in so I go for a dip before sunbathing on the edge. Listening to some relaxing tunes and daydreaming, I don’t think I could be more relaxed. I shower and change to head out to Beaches, a local bar where we planned to meet with everyone who was on the boat today. I drink probably too many beers on an empty stomach, but join in the silly 
Yeeeehaw! drinking game. Grabbing a pizza later, I return fortified 
for a pint or two more. Gradually, we all go our separate ways, saying 
goodbyes to people we may never see again.

A great couple days, and probably the highlight of my trip so far. 
Tomorrow, I continue up north, but leave Airlee with some fantastic 
memories.

I’m sure some of you who are reading this are experienced backpackers, but you have to start somewhere, I suppose. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

1. You get to meet people so much more than you would in a hotel. You have no choice when you’re sharing with 1,2,3, or even 9 others! I have to say that I’ve either been lucky so far or backpackers are generally nice people, easy to get on with. It’s a bit difficult for me, I have to say, to really make great friends as I’m not around in a single place for long (due to my tight schedule) so you make friends and then might not see them again. Also, most people are in the 18-22 age group, but there‘s often many things in common to chatr about. Still, you can always have a good laugh over beer and discuss footy and travel. The best thing is listening to everyone’s experiences – they’ve all travelled so much at an early age! Great to hear about the places they’ve been to.

2. You quickly get used to the lack of privacy. You have little choice! Sharing dorms with girls is also a little strange to start with, but it has its upsides, of course!

3. You learn to love laundry facilities. Up until Japan, I had never used a laundrette in my life. I’ve always had a washer a home, so it was a new experience to actually pay to do washing! The knowledge that you have got new clean clothes for the next few days is awesome.

4. Getting the bathroom when you want it is a game. Separate shower facilities may be a bit out of the way, but are often more available then the one single shower and toilet in the dorm provided for 10 people. Get up early and shower early evening has proved to be the best way!

5. Backpacks are actually easier, on the whole, than suitcases. Stairs are not the obstacle or effort that are with cases, plus you get to look cooler. I did struggle on the first few times of putting it on though, resulting in several bruises on my arms as I hauled it onto my shoulders! Now, I’m a lot more accustomed, of course. However, there’s still never enough room for all your clothes, souvenirs and things you have to take back, so it’s a constant struggle to fit everything back in. Doesn’t help that I’m useless at folding…

6. It provides variety. I’ve now been in a number of hostels, and each one you never know what to expect, as they arguably vary more than hotels.

So, I’m enjoying this way of travelling, and don’t regret doing it. Sure, there are times where you just want a bit of time on your own and to hog the bathroom as much as you want, but you can find times for these if you’re clever. I may treat myself to a hotel near the end of the trip (flying from Cairns in the north down to Melbourne for a few days then in and out of Sydney) but for now Travel Andy is fully in backpacker mode!

I’m staying in a capsule hotel in the famous Shinjinku area. What can I say about this? The facilities are top notch – sauna, bathing area, Internet (that I’m using now) massages, restaurant, sleeping lounge etc. But the accommodation – tiny! The capsule just fits me in length and has enough room to swing a mouse, if you’re careful. The “door” is just a thin, roll-down blind. You can hear the snores of the people around you. They’re laid out in rows of two – I took the one on top. It’s like how I imagined being in spaceship might be. Or a coffin…

I thought I’d tackle the strange idea of Japanese baths today. Luckily, I met an English random (traveller-speak for random man/woman you meet on your travels) taking photos on the streets who lived here at explained the etiquette. In short, you get naked, go to the edge of the big bath, sit down on a small stool, shower yourself down and wash thoroughly, and get into the very hot bath. With lots of other naked men. And watch the baseball, apparently.

I can’t say it’s my usual choice of bathing, and it’s best not to stare at the “views” but it’s certainly different! Of course, would have preferred lots of naked women, but it’s men only. Also, no tattoos!

Last night was interesting. The Shinjinku area is Japan’s Times Square. Quite frankly, it makes New York look tame. Ridiculously easy to get lost in its streets – lights everywhere ! -  and I had to get some help getting back to my hotel after numerous wrong turns. I also got approached from the legions of hookers offering me a good time. Despite almost being shoulder-barged by one, I escaped with my honour intact. Honest!!

I got to Tokyo from Osaka via another bullet train, hoping to see Mount Fuji which it allegedly passes near by. Weather was cloudy, so could I see it? could I heck! Damn. Really wanted to see it, too.

Before I went out, I had another first – a foot massage at the capsule hotel. Not bad – although it was more reflexology I think and hurt in places!

Ended up the evening staying up to 3:30am in an “English” bar watching the Chelsea and then the Liverpool match. When we scored late on I jumped up and celebrated…and realised no-one else gave a toss. Still, the Argentine-American next to me that I talked to understood footy, and congratulated me as I left.

So, off to Oz tonight. Quite excited by it, but totally unprepared again! Wow – another continent. Japan was fantastic. I’ll try and blog the missing days later and upload more photos.

Speak to you soon.

Sayonara!

Old men sit huddled on stools at a food bar, eating some kind of fish breakfast. Stalls are setting up with various fish products. A fishy smell is definitely in the air. Men are scurrying along holding containers with fish. I sense a theme here…

I walk around, trying to keep dry in the increasing rain with little success. People are everywhere in the narrow streets, and I do my best not to bump in to the locals. I know they closed the area down for tourists recently, such was their annoyance at the issues we caused with our cameras and getting in the way. Luckily, we promised to be on our best behaviour and stop camera flashes (blinding the auctioneers who can’t see hand signals), so we’re back in. Still, don’t want to cause them to change their mind. Now where? This isn’t the main part of it, where they display their catch and have it auctioned. No signs around – I guess they still don’t want to make it easy for us. I follow my nose (literally) before asking someone in uniform (good travel tip, there) who points somewhere near.

Flippin’ eck! What have I stepped into! This place is like Piccadilly Circus…except with fish! There’s lorries everywhere, men rushing around with crates, equipment breaking old white boxes down, but mostly it’s men on speedy mini forklift trucks, zooming in and out. I try to make my way through but feel it’s only a matter of time before I become roadkill. Eventually I make it, via a few last-second collision-avoiding steers from annoyed workers and I’m in the stalls. Wow – there are thousands of white containers with all kinds of fish being sold here. Octopus, shrimps, clams, eels, tuna and lots of other types of “normal” fish that I can’t identify. It’s a sea of colours – red, white, orange, silver, green. The paths between the stalls are very narrow, and again I dart between gaps to avoid the carts and the men setting everything up. Finally, I get to the main auction hall.

At last! I meet some non-Japanese people! An Aussie from Sydney and an Israeli, who just happen to find the small door into the main room. It’s 5:20am, and this is the place to be until 6:15 when tourists get chucked out. We enter, chat about where we’re from and then see the fish. Cool – there’s rows and rows of frozen tuna, ends cut, ready for inspection. Grey fish lie on their sides, frozen eyes long glazed over, with a big hole in their head. The Japanese simply love fish. I’m sure the feeling isn’t mutual.

This is like a massive fish graveyard where buyers come along, inspect the dead, in the hope of claiming them to sell on for a nice profit, probably to expensive restaurants. Only the best tuna is wanted, and they come in various sizes. Prospective buyers walk around with their hooks and torches, prodding and poking, in order to gauge each tuna’s quality. It’s serious business, with some of the tuna selling for £25,000 upwards, I’ve heard,

The tourists – and there’s now Americans here too – are contained in a thin line, bunched up in an area bisecting the main hall. To be honest, it’s a little disappointing now – not much happening, no monsters of fish that I can see, and not as big as I expected. Soon, however, the party started, as the hand bells rang out across the floor.

“He-huh! He-ju-huh-huh-huh! He-he-ju! Ju! He-he-ju!” Ok, that wasn’t proper Japanese as I’m sure you can tell but that’s the sort of sounds the auctioneer is making. He’s getting into a proper rhythm now, and I’m sure it’s more a chant than a business procedure. I imagine a bass track underlying it and a trance anthem in the making. Weird stuff, but then aren’t all auctions a little mad? Blokes with cards on their hats like some kind of party games do their hand signals and at some point it briefly stops. Goodness knows who won that. It’s fascinating to watch. After a while, I have to leave as hoardes more people want to come in and view. I make my way out back through the stalls, taking my life into my own hands again with several near misses. Snapping away at the many cool containers, fish eyes staring at me accusingly, I decided to have breakfast.

It’s 6am now and I was told to try to eat here as it’s the done thing to do. What shall I have? I know – fish! I choose a sushi restaurant and sit down. The first attempt at reading the menu is poor, but the waitress hands me an English menu with a mug of hot green tea. Mmmmm the tea is nice. Now, those who know me should know I’m not a sushi fan – one poor experience in LA led me to believe that eating raw fish with rice meant not a lot of fun. I remember feeling like I’d no moisture left in my mouth as I crammed in a big piece of rice and fish. No, sushi wasn’t for me, I’d decided. However, having been re-educated by Steve in New York recently, I decided that maybe it was worth another shot. My small sushi takeaway breakfast yesterday wasn’t too bad, so let’s go for it! Travel Andy doesn’t shirk away from a challenge – I’m here and have to do it. “I’ll have…the Basic Sushi” Yes, not the most adventurous on the menu, but a great mixture of rolls, and different fish on rice. Soon, it arrives and I ask the American lady next to me if she would capture the moment. I’m a bit cold, tired and hair soaked, but this photo should make ‘em proud! I tuck in, pleasantly surprised at what I find. A while later, it’s all eaten and I rush off back to the hotel so I can catch the train to Osaka – my next destination where I’ll be for three nights.